Chapter 53: The Fat One
The chair was suffering.
It was a good chair — solid oak, properly jointed, built to last — and it was doing its best. But the Grand Septon of the Faith of the Seven was a man who tested furniture the way weather tests architecture, and the armrests were pressing into his sides with a persistence that suggested the chair had opinions about the situation and was expressing them structurally.
He had arranged himself as comfortably as possible, which was not very, and his breathing had the measured quality of a man who had made peace with the fact that breathing took effort and had organized his life around that fact.
His robes were white and immaculate, which suggested a staff of devoted attendants. His crystal crown sat on grey hair that had been arranged to suggest more of it than there was. The crystals caught the candlelight and scattered it in small directions, though they could not reach his eyes, which were set in folds of flesh that had long since claimed the surrounding territory.
Behind his back, the faithful called him the Fat One, which addressed both his physique and his appetite, and which he would have found offensive if he had been the kind of man who spent time thinking about what people said behind his back, which he was not.
Henry watched him settle and offered nothing that could be construed as comment.
"Ser Henry." The Grand Septon's voice was rich and practiced, the voice of a man who had been speaking in large spaces for a long time and had learned to project without appearing to. "The Faith is grateful, as always, for your devotion. The Seven see what you give, and they remember it."
The devotion he was referencing was a fixed annual contribution from Bay of Crabs tax revenue, which Henry had established when he took the lordship on the principle that a small predictable cost was preferable to an unpredictable large one, and that the title of Devout Believer of the Seven was worth the purchase price in social credibility among the nobility. The Faith got coin. Henry got a reputation for piety. The transaction suited everyone involved.
"The honor is mine," Henry said. "The Seven's spokesman gracing Watch headquarters is more than I deserve."
The Grand Septon smiled, which involved several layers of his face moving simultaneously. "Your sword has served the Faith well over the years. If all believers showed such commitment, the evils of this world would find no purchase."
"Your Holiness didn't come personally to offer blessings," Henry said pleasantly. "What does the Faith require?"
The smile adjusted itself into something more purposeful. "A small matter. Relating to public order in the city."
He folded his hands on his stomach, which provided them a convenient surface. "Thanks to your efforts, Flea Bottom has been considerably quieter these past years. But with the tourney approaching and the city filling up, a red priest has come into King's Landing. Preaching in the alleys. Prophecies, miracles, the usual nonsense these people traffic in. The commonfolk are susceptible to this sort of thing, particularly the poor."
"I've heard some of the red god's followers talk about burning septons," Henry said, with an expression of appropriate concern. "Disturbing."
"Exactly." The Grand Septon leaned forward, which shifted his center of gravity in ways the chair registered immediately. "This person must be removed from the city before they establish a following. Once the roots are down, the weed is much harder to pull."
"I understand the concern," Henry said. "But harboring unorthodox beliefs isn't a crime under the laws of the realm. The Watch can act on conduct, not theology." He spread his hands in the gesture of a man explaining a regrettable limitation. "If someone commits a crime, we act. If they're simply speaking in public—"
"I attempted to address this myself," the Grand Septon said, his voice dropping into the register of a man sharing information he finds embarrassing. "I sent brothers from the Great Sept to— to make the Faith's position clear."
"And?"
A pause. "The City Watch dispersed them."
Henry nodded with the attentiveness of a man hearing this for the first time. "On what grounds?"
"They said—" The Grand Septon's voice became approximately the volume of a man speaking into a pillow. "Illegal assembly with weapons."
"Your Holiness." Henry's tone shifted, gently but clearly. "That is a serious charge. The law on armed assembly exists because armed crowds in city streets tend to produce outcomes nobody wants. The Watch showed considerable restraint in dispersing rather than detaining." He tapped the table once, lightly. "If I may ask — who authorized the brothers to carry weapons into the streets?"
The Grand Septon appeared to find the pattern of the floorboards suddenly interesting.
"The red priest also has guards," he said, recovering his volume and his direction. "Sent by Lord Stannis. It is a deliberate provocation — the King's own brother lending soldiers to a heretic preacher."
"Lord Stannis," Henry said, with the gentle emphasis of a man correcting a form of address he had corrected before. "The master of ships. The King's brother. That Lord Stannis."
The Grand Septon pursed his lips. "Lord Stannis has never shown appropriate reverence for the Seven. And now he extends his protection to someone actively working against the Faith."
"Lord Stannis's beliefs are his own concern, as the King's beliefs are the King's own concern. The Watch doesn't adjudicate matters of faith." Henry leaned back in his chair. "What I can tell you is this — any gathering of more than a certain number of people in a confined space, without a license from Watch headquarters, constitutes an illegal assembly under city ordinance. Regardless of what the gathering is for." He paused. "The ordinance doesn't distinguish between religions."
The Grand Septon processed this. Something shifted in his expression — the calculation becoming visible for a moment before settling back under its usual pleasant surface.
"If such a gathering were reported to Watch headquarters," he said carefully, "the Watch would be obligated to disperse it?"
"To investigate the report and respond according to the law," Henry said. "Yes."
"And the organizer?"
"Would be subject to the standard penalties for illegal assembly. Fines, removal from the premises, potential temporary detention depending on the degree of disruption." He met the Grand Septon's eyes. "The law applies equally. If the Faith's gatherings are properly licensed and conducted peaceably, they have nothing to worry about. If a red priest's gatherings are not licensed and create a disturbance, the Watch responds."
The Grand Septon was quiet for a moment. Then the smile returned, broader than before, the crystals of his crown catching the light in all directions.
"Ser Henry." He placed both hands on the armrests and applied the significant effort required to straighten his posture. "The Faith is grateful for your commitment to lawful order. As a gesture of the Seven's appreciation — and the Faith's personal gratitude — I am prepared to discuss a waiver of two years of interest on the crown's outstanding obligations to the Faith. And a contribution of thirty thousand gold dragons to Watch operations, in recognition of your service to public safety."
"That's generous," Henry said, in the tone of a man who has been expecting something in this vicinity.
"Additionally," the Grand Septon continued, "the three monasteries in the Bay of Crabs territory — their tax obligations would be redirected to the Lord of the Bay of Crabs directly, to be applied to the maintenance of order in the region."
Henry appeared to consider this for a longer moment than was strictly necessary.
"How many people are gathering to hear this red priest currently?" he asked.
"A hundred or more. Daily. In the alleys off the Street of Flour."
"That many." Henry nodded slowly. "Your Holiness, if one of the Faith's representatives were to come to Watch headquarters tomorrow and file a formal report of an unlicensed assembly at that location, the Watch would be required to respond." He held the Grand Septon's gaze. "We take complaints from all quarters of the city. It's how the law is supposed to work."
The Grand Septon rose from the chair with the deliberate process of a large ship leaving harbor. He adjusted his robes, resettled his crown, and took Henry's hand in both of his with the warmth of a man who has gotten what he came for.
"The Seven's blessing on you, Ser Henry," he said. "And on the Watch."
"On the Faith as well, Your Holiness."
Henry walked him to the door and stood there while the Grand Septon descended to his litter, surrounded by his attendants, moving with the stately inevitability of a man who has never been required to hurry.
Hadley materialized at Henry's shoulder as the litter disappeared around the corner.
"Thirty thousand dragons and three monasteries' worth of tax revenue," Hadley said, without inflection.
"And two years of crown debt interest waived, which Eddard will appreciate more than he'll say." Henry turned back inside. "In exchange for enforcing city ordinances that already exist and apply to everyone equally."
"And the red priest?"
"Gets dispersed if they're holding unlicensed gatherings, same as anyone else." Henry paused. "Make sure whoever responds tomorrow is professional about it. No roughness unless it's necessary. The Faith is watching, and so is Stannis, and I don't want either of them having something legitimate to complain about."
Hadley nodded, his iron hand resting against his side. "And Thoros?"
Henry was quiet for a moment. "Thoros is a licensed practitioner of his faith and has not held any unlicensed gatherings that I'm aware of. If that changes, we respond. If it doesn't change, we leave him alone."
"He is—" Hadley searched for the word.
"He's Thoros," Henry said. "He's been in this city for fifteen years. He drinks too much and he sets swords on fire and he believes in things I can't verify, and none of that is currently a crime." He headed back toward his office. "File the Grand Septon's contribution when it arrives. Log it correctly — contribution to Watch operations from the Faith of the Seven. I don't want anyone saying we took it under the table."
Hadley made a note of this and went about his day.
Henry sat back down at his desk and looked at the correspondence waiting for him and thought about the Grand Septon's crystals, catching light in all directions, illuminating nothing.
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